Jealousy
by TheCatEyedLady
Summary: Santana is increasingly physically ill and in a foul-mood, but no medical literature seems to have her condition on file... Can she figure it out herself?
1. Chapter 1

The throbbing in her head drove her to grinding her teeth, thereby making it worst. _Fuck!_ Clenching her jaw, she reached for the night table beside her bed, fumbling with the drawer in the darkness, looking for a small pack of aspirins she knew was in there. Her fingers recognized the texture of the package and a light tap to hear the sound confirmed it. Sitting up to take a sip of water caused her to groan further in pain.

Sighing, the teen let herself slide back on to the pillowy softness of her bed. What was wrong with her? Her father repeatedly checked her for fever and had a mouth swab confirm she was not in fact ill with a virus or a bacteria. She couldn't understand it. Her mother even accused her of faking it, but why would she? Being sick meant she couldn't attend Cheerleading practice... or Glee... And that was simply out of the question. Something was definitely up, she just didn't know what.

In an attempt to bring her focus off the pain she let her mind wander to the crazy places it can go when one is tired. It brought her back to an event from several weeks ago.

_"I don't mean to be a bitch -actually, yes I do"_

She wasn't sure why she'd done it. Well yes she wanted to get back at Brittany because no one denies Santana Lopez ANYTHING. You just don't. But it felt like more than just that. Artie and the blonde cheerleader had since then kissed and made up, getting back together. The brunette didn't know why but something about the two of them bugged the hell out of her and every time she saw them she just felt negative. In fact her symptoms started not long after that, and it just made it worst to think about it.

_Ugh._

Of late her mood had been fowl, no doubt in part to being in physical pain all the time. In part also due to the fact she felt lonely and grumpy and although she'd never admit it, Brittany did normally manage to keep her from going berserk.

It was the end of the day and she was walking -no, stomping down the hallways heading to the choir room. Most students cowered in fear and those who didn't either got elbowed in the nose or tackled against a locker. Those who dared accidentally or purposely make eye contact got choked half to death, nails digging in their throats et all. Santana was out and she was out to kill. It didn't make her feel any better, but she did enjoy this newer, fresher reign of terror she was imposing.

A very slight smirk -first faint trace of a smile on her mocha-coloured face in weeks- graced the corner of her mouth. But it was not meant to last. A scowl took its rightful place as she entered the choir room. Her stomach lurched and she felt faint and dizzy. She crinkled her nose in disgust brushing past Wheels and Brittany, bumping them slightly on her way up to the remotest spot in the room she could find. It was awkward, seeing as they were the only ones in the room for now and yet she pretended they didn't exist and they obviously uncomfortable, didn't try to push it.

Things got interesting however when Brittany got up to go to the washroom. Artie took off his glasses and laid them on the chair beside him to rest his eyes and rub his face. Santana left her seat and snatched the glasses as quietly as possible before smashing them and putting them back on the chair, broken glass and all. The boy had heard the sound but hadn't dared to ask, knowing she'd probably ignore him or pull some crazy stunt on him for simply having addressed her. However anger quickly rose in him when he reached for his glasses, feeling the cracks, the missing pieces, the broken branch.

"Lopez, what the fuck? Why would you even do that!

- Suck it up, bluetooth.

- What is wrong with you!

- Nothing. I am who I am: haters to the left!"

He muttered under his breath and she got aggressive.

"What's that, Wheelie? IF YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY, SAY IT LOUD.

- Even for you that was low. You happy now? I'm in a wheel chair and I'm blind.

- You're the one who always wants to get treated normally. Morality is for suckers anyway. Which means if you don't shut up I just might break them on your face next time."

Her voice had grown increasingly threatening. Something flared in her gut, like a flame catching gas.

Just at that moment Brittany walked back in closely followed by Rachel. Artie turned his head trying to see.

"Who just came in?

- I did.

- Me too.

- Who are you?

- Don't you recognize me? Its me Brittany! And Rachel.

- Its not that I don't its that I can't. Bitchface over there broke my glasses."

Brittany looked up, confused, with concern strewn on her features. Her blue eyes grew big and questioning when they landed on Santana, who remained unreadable, still scowling.

"You mean Santana? But..."

The blonde looked hurt and her eyes dimmed a little. To her own dismay, this unsettled the latina who found herself obliged to look away. She felt her stomach churn and something inside her burned.

"Santana is this true? As team captain I cann-

- Save it dwarf! You have zero leadership skills and if you care about your nose as much as you say you do, you should shut that damn trap of yours!"

The black haired girl stormed out of the choir room, heading straight for the toilets.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm sorry it took so long to update... Lack of inspiration and ideas haha... I wasn't even sure if I wanted to morph this in a multichapter fic.

I hope you enjoy!

"San you've been in a bad mood lately."

Santana slammed the door of her locker shut and briefly eyed Brittany before turning away.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

It was the last period before cheerleading practice and the bell rang once, whipping demotivated students in to making their way to class. Books in hand, the black-haired girl saw this as an opportunity to scamper off. Brittany frowned before flanking her.

"But you've been doing mean things..."

- So? I always do mean things. I'm a bitch, deal with it."

Her eyes narrowed and the muscles in her face felt tighter, when she felt the blonde's hand gently rest itself on her arm as they turned the corner and headed down the hall.

"You aren't a bitch, S"

The Latina stopped suddenly and looked up in to those piercing blue eyes, faltering in the process a little before practically snarling her answer.

"Oh yeah? That's not what your boyfriend said!"

Brittany flinched, not being used to Santana lashing out at her. The brunette avoided those heartbreaking eyes filled with hurt and instead practically sprinted away towards the classroom. The blond stood still

"Get out of my way, Fabray."

Santana's voice came out as a low growl of discontentment. Quinn may've had toppled her over as the head cheerleader, but she hadn't gone back to quietly flanking her just yet.

"No", was the calm reply.

"You take your stretch-marked ass and you move it away from my Beamer. I've got places to go.

- Not until we've talked.

- I've got _nothing _to say to you.

- Well I do."

The Latina looked at the blond with growing irritation.

"Then hurry up before I'm tempted to punch you!

- Punching the head cheerleader isn't going to get you anywhere, aside from Coach's, Pillsburry's or Figgins' offices.

- So get to the point already!" _'and make it snappy, I feel sick again.'_

Quinn sighed and looked down as if silently asking God for the necessary fortitude to deal with this girl, before looking back up straight at Santana.

"Look, Santana, you and I both know we don't love each other, and the only reason you used to flank me so avidly is because I'm head cheerleader.

- Fuck you, we actually used to be friends... kinda... until you got Preggers, took Puck then backstabbed me out of Coach's good graces.

- Yeah, and that's what matters. Those times we had sleep overs... those times we shared secrets. Those times we made fun of Rachel Berry together. When we duct taped Jacob to the flag pole..."

Her voice trailed as she searched the brown eyes for some kind of recognition, a reaction. Santana couldn't help but smirk and chuckle at that memory. She'd herself come up with the especially cruel idea to even put tape on his jewfro, further sticking him to the pole. He'd been forced to chop some of it off and for a while looked scrawnier than ever. Those were the good old days. Before they blurred the lines between Glee and Cheerios. Before things got complicated, in theory, in practice, in thought and in heart. The sharpness in her words was gone when she replied.

"So?

- So... I know you're lonely. I've been there. And maybe I'm ready to forgive you if you're willing to forgive me"

The black-haired girl said nothing, just staring, waiting for her to finish.

"I noticed you've been behaving in an unusual manner with Brittany. You used to protect her, guide her, be there for her, the two of you were inseparable. What the heck is going on, Santana?

- I've been busy and clearly she doesn't need me anymore.

- What makes you say that? Because she's dating Artie?"

Lurch. Her stomach felt as if it would fall out of her mouth and her face contorted itself in sheer disgust. Quinn's eyebrows rose and fell in less than a second, noticing this, but said nothing. Santana stayed in in silence, trying to settle herself and numb out the burning in her face.

"Taking care of a cripple can be time-consuming, but I guess someone has to."

The blond moved away from the BMW's door, finally giving it's owner access.

"Brittany doesn't deserve you messing up her love-life. But if anything, you don't deserve to feel like this, 24/7. And besides... Its my job to ensure squad members get along."

Santana cocked her head to the side, but trying to keep her expression of surprise, hidden. She'd spent enough time with head cheerleader to know this was her way of saying 'I'm here for you'. Although this touched her more than she'd care to admit she shrugged her shoulders and opened the car door.

"I told you, things are just peachy."

She got in and slammed it shut, causing Quinn to step away and watch it drive off.

"Hola", she said mechanically as she walked in, climbing up the stairs to her room. She heard a distant reply from her mother, but closed the door to her room and tossed her bag on her bed. The brunette stopped for a moment and stared at it blankly, thinking about Quinn and their conversation from earlier on, rewinding their dialog in her head. She bolted out of the room suddenly and ran to the bathroom, lifting the toilet bowl seat just in time to puke her guts out. Her head throbbed and she stayed still a few instants before hoisting herself up, flushing the toilet and running some cold water. After having splashed her face and wiped her mouth Santana looked at her reflection and grimaced in disgust at herself. Saying she was a hot damn mess would have been a gross understatement.

When the young brunette walked out again, instead of going to her room, she went downstairs, heading for the kitchen, hoping that a little snack and a glass of milk could help settle sickness, if only temporarily.

"... We have to go today! You told me yourself, Rodriguo, early detection dramatically improves chances of recovery in cancer patients!"

Santana froze, holding her breath. Cancer? Who had cancer? A wave of panic and anxiety washed over her. The questions an speculations galloped across her mind wildly, drowning out the rest of the telephonic conversation her mother was having. It couldn't be one of her parents right? Maybe grandma? She came back to reality with a jolt when the sound of the phone was slammed against it's base in an emotional manner.

"Oh mija... Do you need something, sweetheart?

- I uh."

Her heart was still rushing and the pounding at her temples reminded her of her initial reason for coming down in the first place.

"Milk, mama. And something to snack on, but not cookies."

Her mother nodded and smiled at her tenderly, although a certain amount of concern was strewn over her traits.

"I'll get it for you, you go start your homework... or rest a bit before, I'll be right up."

Santana turned on her heels and headed towards the stairs.

"... and take note you have a doctor's appointment tomorrow morning, you can turn off your alarm."

Her blood went suddenly, very, very still and very, very cold.


	3. Chapter 3

"Ay, watch it!" snapped the young Latina as she felt the needle clumsily poke through her skin. She glared at the doctor with eyes that burned with the fire of a thousand Suns but he'd seen it all throughout his lifetime and was not the least bit impressed. Her eyes slid back to her arm and the syringe slowly filling up with her own blood. It was a weird feeling, a weird impression. It was entirely unnatural yet she knew she couldn't move. She looked away.

"Why do you have to take so much blood anyway?

- because we were asked to do a full blood panel."

Santana grunted. It was already getting late in the afternoon and she'd been at the hospital since this morning. She'd even been through the CT scan machine which was weird and scary to her slightly claustrophobic mind. The initial fear and anxiety she'd felt at the beginning of the day was being replaced with fatigue and irritation from being poked and probed. Although the brunette didn't believe her mother's explanation as to all these tests being run, she desperately wanted to, the telephonic conversation she'd overheard still floating at the back of her mind. She couldn't have cancer. She was young and healthy and, and...

"Alright, we're done."

'_Good because I have a massive headache'_

Without a word, the young girl got up and walked off, squeezing her arm a little to dull the stinging sensation left where the blood was drawn. She was chewing her lower lip, lost in her head and not paying attention to where she was going when she found herself colliding full force in to someone, projecting her to the floor.

"What the fuck asshole watch where you're going!

- Hello to you too Santana."

The teen who'd been literally trembling with rage looked up, recognizing Quinn, who looked at her expectantly with her trademark cocked eyebrow. She crossed her arms stubbornly and pointedly looked away from the hand offered to her. The blonde shrugged.

"Suit yourself."

The brunette folded her legs beneath herself to get back up when a stinging pain slicing through her brain. Her vision blurred and she almost fell back to the ground, steadying herself by putting a hand on the wall. She hated the fact the other girl was seeing her like this and wondered why it had to happen now of all times.

"Are you ok?

- I'm just _peachy_! I'm only here for a routine check up."

'_I didn't ask..._' Hazel eyes looked up and down, concerned, but knowing to proceed carefully around the easily upset Latina. Although she usually went along with Santana's tough girl act, it was easy for her to see just how ridiculously sensitive she was. She supposed most people were either too dumb or too scared of angering her to notice how easily roused she was.

"What are you here for anyway? Got knocked up again?"

'_There you go again, San, deflecting_'

"That wasn't even creative, I was expecting something to do with my stretch marks.

- Fuck you, Fabray.

- I'm here because of concerns in regards to post-pregnancy triggered diabetes."

The brunette squinted, trying to find her vision's focus again. She hadn't expected Quinn to answer so honestly or openly and her brows furrowed slightly, a little taken aback.

"You'll never guess who I ran in to earlier on, either.

- I don't like guessing games, Stretchy.

- Brittany. "

Worry washed over the mahogany-eyed girl's face that was already contorted in pain. Noticing this, the head cheerleader quickly clarified.

"She was here to get a prescription for the pilll."

The pain in her head was rapidly growing near unbearable. Her knees buckled and she closed her eyes, trying to focus, still fighting to appear as strong as she possibly could. The blonde's maternal instincts took over and she cupped Santana's face with a hand on either side. The slightly shorter girl jerked her head back abruptly, causing herself to nearly topple over again. She recovered just in time and although she couldn't really see, she tried to glare as she seethed.

"Don't _touch me_!

- Santana, you are _not_ okay, let me in, let me _help_!

- Fuck off, leave me alone!"

The Latina sprinted off a bit blindly, she was feeling sick and needed to make her way to the restroom urgently. Quinn rolled her eyes and darted off after her motioning to the nurses and hospital staff that everything was okay and under control. Sort of. The blonde caught up with her, just as she was swinging the doors open to the ladies' and Santana practically threw herself at the nearest toilet bowl, lifting the seat just in time. Her friend quickly rushed to her side, gently pulling back the jet black locks so as to preserve them from being soiled. Neither of them said anything and the brunette didn't attempt to push her away. She stayed still for a while after she was done vomiting, trembling slightly from the shock. The other girl let go of her hair when she brought her head back up and let herself slide to the floor, sitting down beside Quinn. Eyes closed, the young girl tried to steady herself and the two remained silent until she slowly tried to pull herself off the floor.

Whether it was pride, habit, or principle, Santana did not seek any further help from the blonde who nonetheless kept a weary eye on her for any signs of weakness. They walked out of the stall and up to the sink where the black-haired girl ran cold water that she splashed her face with and wiped her mouth clean, being careful to completely avoid any visual contact with the pair of hazel eyes that watched over her closely. Quinn reached for some paper towels and as she handed them over to Santana she finally broke the silence.

"And I'm the one getting the pregnancy jokes!

- Can it, Tubbers.

- You know I'm kidding, but something is seriously wrong with you.

- Nothing is wrong with me I am perfectly _normal_!"

The blonde's ears perked up in curiosity. She had meant to talk about the other girl's health, and she should have responded that she was fine. The use of the word normal certainly did not escape her, but before she could react, she was sprayed with a jet of cold water. Squealing in surprise she jumped back and looked at Santana, mouth agape before regaining her composure and tossing a ball of brown paper right back at her. With the agility of a cat, the Latina avoided it easily and smirked. Smirk which, was wiped of her face just as fast when the ice cold water made contact with her skin.

"You are _so _dead, Fabray!"

They splashed about in the restrooms for a couple of minutes, in an impromptu water fight that ended up with the both of them half soaked and giggling uncontrollably. With Santana's ego restored there was no avoidance or aggression when they looked at each other after having calmed down. They stayed quiet for a few seconds before Quinn gently reached for the brunette's hand.

"You're not here for a routine, Santana. I'm not stupid.

- ... I.

- I promise, your secret is safe with me.

- I overheard my mother talking about cancer, yesterday and right after she made a medical appointment for me."

The silence was deafening. Santana looked away and it felt like hours trickled by, when it fact only a few long seconds had.

"... Leukimia?

- What? How would I know! I don't even believe it. I mean its why I'm getting tested!

- Calm down, I was only asking."

The blonde's intuition however had picked up on a lot of signals in recent times and with that knowledge in her back pocket she allowed herself to smile.

"You'll be fine, Lopez. I don't think they'll find anything with these tests."

She held out her arm for Santana to link hers in to it.

"You're fucked up, but that's the way you're meant to be.

- SHUT IT, STRETCHY!

- Never, I enjoy seeing you squirm"


End file.
